Crackling Fire
by Avatar Robyn
Summary: Katniss finds someone unexpected.


**Chapter Title:** Crackling Fire  
**Author:** Avatar Robyn  
**Pairing/Characters:** Katniss, Glimmer.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Katniss finds someone unexpected in the forest.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**Crackling Fire**

I walk quietly following the river while keeping my eyes on the surrounding area, my ears strained for any sounds of sudden movement. At the moment I can't afford to be taken by surprise by an animal or a fellow tribute – one would help fill my aching stomach and the other could mean sudden death. No, they both could with those mutts.

Muttation is the proper term for them, genetically alerted, bred or somehow engineered animals by the Capitol. They had been around long before the Games even started in the form of the jabberjays but even though the birds had ultimately failed in their use, the project didn't seem to have been written off.

I remember the first time I'd seen one, never in real life but in a previous game. It was Prim that pointed it out, a small furry woodland creature that kind of looked like a rabbit. At first glance it seemed harmless – it even looked good to provide food enough for two. But that thought was lost when a tribute came across it, a lanky boy most likely in his late teens.

He was a Career, one of the more arrogant I've seen, since he had a habit of boasting to his group about all of his kills. He had even went as far as saying that he wanted more of a challenge since that year's game was "too easy" for him. The moment he saw the creature, he had that twisted smirk on his face, and I knew he was going to kill it but for an entirely different reason then my own would have been.

The thing was, he never did get a chance to strike. As soon as he stepped close enough to it, the thing changed – its beady little eyes turned red, smooth fur became spiky and ridged, and its teeth came out like small daggers. Before the boy could even register what happened, the thing jumped on him and attacked.

A horrific mixture of gargling screams and tearing flesh filled the area; it was almost impossible to watch. But I couldn't turn away, even as he fell on his back with his hands digging into fur, desperately trying to rip the creature from his face. It had taken awhile until his cannon finally sounded and the creature abandoned his body to dart away back into the forest.

The camera lingered on his body showing it from the feet up most likely trying to draw some sort of suspense but when it reached his face, I wished they hadn't at all. The little bit of food I had eaten that day nearly made a reappearance on sight. Through all the blood, you could still make out his skin that had been butchered; the little that was left looked as though it had been peeled like an orange.

His mouth and nose were torn into wide open gashes, and blood still seeped out of each incision. But the worst part was his eyes. Even if he had survived from all of that he wouldn't have lived for long considering his eyes that had once held a sense of taunting and bloodlust for anyone that looked into them were gone. The only things in the sockets were blood and the remains.

That night and a few days following it, Prim had slept in my bed because she kept having nightmares of furry creatures that would attack her at any minute. She had even kept her distance from Buttercup for a bit until the damn cat started meowing at her pathetically with those demonic large yellow eyes. My sister had quickly melted and cuddled the furry beast overcoming her fear.

At that time, I had wished she wouldn't have gotten over her fear so I could have thrown the furball out. Now, I know he's doing what I can't at the moment providing protection and comfort. The ugly thing is probably following her around everywhere she goes, much like he had the first few weeks when she had found him and healed him. If by some miracle I do make it out of here, I might just start being nice to the little monster.

The rustling of the bushes off to the side of me brings my attention back to the present. I clench the warm handle of the knife harder in my hand, holding still while ignoring the shiver going through my body. After a few moments, a rabbit hops out and sits there cleaning its face. It does nothing to soothe me since the image of the disfigured face flashes in my mind. I keep my eyes on it waiting for any signs of change while it goes to the river and drinks. Its ears twitching this way and that listening for any sudden change.

Suddenly I feel foolish for just standing there; it is obvious that this rabbit isn't the same the cocky boy had encountered. It doesn't seem to have the same feeling about it, even through the screen; I'd known something had been off with the creature even while Prim cooed at the thing. But then again, I knew something would have happened to him eventually. He had been self-centered and arrogant but it had worked for the most part –the crowd had loved him, if the amount of parachutes he received were anything to judge by.

He probably would have won if he hadn't openly insulted the Gamemakers and therefore the Capitol. But I hadn't done anything to them, expect the arrow thing. Will they get me back for that even if it wasn't in public?

Before I can make an attempt to consider this, the rabbit jerks up and looks straight at me. My body tenses for a moment but relaxes when the rabbit turns around and starts hopping away. For a minute, I'm watching it scurry off into the undergrowth until I practically hear Gale's voice shouting at me for just standing there. I start sprinting after it into the forest, dodging the trees all the, while keeping my eyes focused on my target that begins speeding up knowing that it was in danger.

Gripping the knife tightly I find myself wishing for a bow and arrow instead, but if the incident on the train has shown me anything it was that I had developed some skill at throwing knives, I guess running out of arrows while I had been hunting had paid off.

I wait for the right moment and it comes soon enough when the rabbit hops out of the concealing bushes and towards a hole at the base of the tree. I hurl the knife, watching with bated breath as it cuts through the air before lodging itself in the neck of the rabbit just as its front paws reached the warren.

It falls to the ground, jerking a bit with its dying breath before going limp, but my eyes stayed on the hole. It had almost made it home and I killed it, just like that. A wave of acknowledgment hits me – that could be me, at any given moment. I try to force it away, moving forward to collect the dead rabbit. I turn to head back to the river when something catches my eye an arrow.

An arrow is lodged into the tree; it isn't deep, the arrowhead only buried in by the tip. I could easily dig it out, but what purpose would it have if I didn't have a bow? I briefly wonder if Rue, the little girl from District 11, might be able to tangle some vines and leaves together into one. Although even if she could, I doubt she'd willingly help a potential enemy create a weapon of all things.

At the thought of an enemy, my eyes widen. Most of the tributes had been slaughtered at the bloodbath by the Careers. They are the ones that get the supplies in the end, which included weapons. The bow and arrows I had tried to get before taking shelter in the woods. They most likely belong to one of them now, so that could only mean one thing.

The Careers are nearby.

My heartbeat accelerates at the thought of a possible threat and my body freezes as I strain to listen for any signs of movement or voices; anything to tell me which way they are or which direction they are heading. Nothing, I don't hear anything, expect, the river and chips of the birds.

Still on alert, I move as quietly as I can way from the river. If they were still lurking around, they would most likely follow it to keep a source of water nearby at all times. The only years a non-Career had won were when food and water had been an issue, which is why they usually took any source available right from the beginning. I walk aimlessly not caring which way I go as long as it wasn't into one of them.

Its nearing afternoon by the time I can no longer fight against my hunger. I decide to build a fire to cook the rabbit, using a bit of water from my container to clean it. Once the meat is cooking, I sit back and stare into the flames. I wonder what they are doing Prim, Mom and Gale. Is Prim okay? Did Mom fall back into her depressed state? Is Gale taking care of them? I know he is, but is he taking care of himself?

I feel a wave of guilt at the fact that not only does he have to take care of his own family, he has to find a way to make sure mine is fed too. But then again, the baker said he'd help too but would he if I turn out to be the one to kills his son in cold blood? I doubt it. Before I can think anymore about it, the rabbit meat is cooked and I start to eat. I only eat a little in order to keep the rest for later.

Deciding to get ready for the night, I put out the fire, cover up the evidence, and begin walking again to find somewhere to sleep for the night. It isn't long before I spot a place; a tree with branches large enough to hold at least two people. I make my way to it but just as my hand touches the bark, I hear a voice.

"Is that really where you've been hiding? The trees?" a husky female voice asks from behind me. I stop instantly, cursing softly to myself while my fingers reach for the knife that was now attached to my belt. The owner of the voice chuckles clearly amused. "You should really pay attention to your surroundings. Don't worry; I'm not in any shape to be a threat."

I whirl around only to find no one standing behind me, but instead slumped against a tree a few yards away. My eyes narrow at the tribute a girl with blonde hair hunched over with her hand covering her stomach, but I can see the blood still seeping out. It doesn't look like she is going to make it.

"Pretty gruesome, huh?" she asks. An amused look is on her paling face but, her emerald green eyes tell a different story. Wait! I felt my eyebrows furrow as my mind brings up images of my memory. Emerald green eyes, blonde hair, tall and lush…

Glimmer!

I step back towards the tree, my hand already positioned to throw the knife at any given moment. My eyes flicker around the area waiting for the rest of the Careers to spring out of whatever hiding place they are located while questions keep firing off in my head. Where are the others? Why is she alone? How was she injured? Were the others injured too? Were there Mutts roaming around in here?

The look on my face must have betrayed my inner thoughts because I hear the District 1 girl start to laugh. "Really? Even now, you're still scared of me, Twelve? Do you really think I could do anything to you now?" she asks mockingly.

I glare at her. "No, actually it's not _you._ I'm worried about. I do wonder where your friends are though. Did they abandon you?" I spit back at her. The smirk disappears for a moment before it flickers back onto her face.

"So you missed it huh? I thought with all the noise everyone would have heard." she says rolling her eyes. I'm not amused.

"Hear what?" I ask trying to distract her, while I think of a way to get out of this mess. She was right, she isn't a threat at the moment. But her _friends_ are if this turns out to be an ambush. I need a way to escape. Fast. It wouldn't be the first time a wounded tribute had been used as bait so their partner or group could continue.

"We had a disagreement, Clove and I, she wanted to slice you up into pieces, and I wanted to set you on fire." she says with a wink. A shiver runs down my spine while my cheeks heat up a bit, and I feel a mixture of fear and embarrassment. Fear because Clove had actually been close to achieving her desire during the bloodbath and embarrassed from the Capitol-inspired nickname being used against me.

_It would be a bit ironic though,_ I think to myself, _The Girl on Fire dies by fire._

"I'm sure the audience would love that, but I doubt an argument over ways to kill me would have lead up to your current state." I say firmly. She averts her gaze away from me at that, and I feel myself become genuinely curious now.

Silence falls between us, and I'm tempted to just walk away, but after a few minutes she speaks. "You're not the only ones, you know?" Her voice is so low, I almost didn't hear her. "Not all of us love these _games_." She practically spits the word out.

I stare at her confused. She's a Career from District 1, no less and wasn't she just saying how she'd love to roast me over a fire? When she turns to me, however, my confusion is immediately replaced with something else; shock. Her eyes…

The look in her eyes is the same thing I see every day in District 12 from people in the Hobb, my mother, Gale, and even myself the look of tiredness, not the physical form, nor the kind that would go away after some good rest. Those eyes are gained from loss, pain, and sorrow. I gained mine after my father died; the veil of innocence had finally been ripped from my eyes when I took on the weight of keeping the family together. I had promised myself long ago that I would never allow that look to ever appear on Prim's face. I failed the day of the Reaping.

"I'm sure you remember it," Glimmer says softly, but it snaps me out of my thoughts and I frown. Remember what? "The last game, our male tribute." she answers my unasked question almost instantly.

My frown deepens as I try to think of the previous game, but once she mentions their old tribute, I remember. Gale's angry rants had nearly gotten us in trouble a few times during that particular game, though the way I see it he had a good reason to be upset though. In our District, the reaping is a time of sorrow and terror, because even if you are not picked chances are you know the ones who are.

But in the more luxurious districts it's viewed as much as a game to them as it is to the Capitol. That game had been proof of that; In District 1 the male tribute a small twelve-year-old boy had gotten into an argument with two older boys that wanted to take his place. It had gone on for awhile, most likely drawn out because of the Capital's amusements, until the small boy shouted he was picked first.

The two boys had finally been stopped by the Peacemakers since the boy was actually in the right. But when the games had begun the small boy had been one of the first to die having a spear thrown through his head in the bloodbath. That wasn't the worse part because when the Capitol set out to interview families, they had also interviewed the two boys. They were asked how they felt about the death of their tribute.

Their responses: The fool got what he deserved.

A part of me agreed with them, but not for the reason they seemed to have. I felt sorry for the boy, as he had been taught how much of an adventure, how much of an excitement and honor it was to be in the games. He hadn't realized it until too late that the so-called games involved a human's life. The final look on his face, said it all though.

He understood it in the end.

Forcing those thoughts away I refocus on Glimmer as she speaks, "He was just a kid; he didn't know any better. He didn't know…but that didn't matter. It was too late for him to change his mind," she says, bowing her head a bit. I move closer, seeing her lips moving, and catch the end of her muttering, "…you stupid brat."

I feel a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach at those words. And then I'm back in District 12 watching in a daze as Prim walks past me towards the stage. The blood drained from her face making it look ghostly, her body trembling from her lips to her toes. Before I can say anything though, everything changes and I see a messy blond haired boy walking in her place.

For the first time, I actually watch him stand on the stage; I recall the small pout on his face when the two older boys call out to be his substitute. His boyish grin at succeeding in being labeled the tribute of their District, it was like he was inches away from sticking out his tongue at the other boys. The whole thing was messed up; it was like he was getting a treat, not being thrown into a pit to fight for his life. He had behaved like a little boy.

No, little brother.

"Was he..." I begin but my voice is faltering shakily. I suddenly become aware of the dryness in my throat and even my attempts at swallowing make it feel like a handful of berries are lodged in it. Even with my incapability to finish the question, she seems to understand what I'm trying to ask.

"Yes." Her answer is barely above of whisper, but to me it's loud enough. "It's partly my fault you know? I always used to talk about how amazing the games were and that one day I'd volunteer as a tribute if I'm not picked before I reached age eighteen. It was what everyone in our District wanted; to us, it shows who the best of the best is. It was a privilege to be picked, not a death sentence." She starts coughing, clenching her hand to the wound and pressing against it like she's trying to stop the flow of blood.

My previous thoughts rush back to me. How in the world did she get injured in the first place and why was she alone? The only reasons, I can think of is if she had run into another tribute maybe Thresh from District 11 or even that redhead. But then again why would she be separated from the others?

In all of the previous games I've seen, the Careers usually act like a pack of wolves. They would move, hunt, and kill together at least until there are only a few other tributes or just them left that is when all previous ties are severed. To split up right now is too early; the bloodbath had cut the number of tributes down, but not that much.

"I don't understand why you are out here alone. Or why the others aren't here helping you." I reply.

"Don't worry, they'll be here soon." she says confidently, but something seems off about it. My face must have mirrored my thoughts, as she sighs. "You know, when you make an alliance with others there are usually rules. We work as a team until the game really begins; usually we'd knock off the weaker ones and get rid of those that could be trouble."

At this she pauses looking at me hesitantly. I just nod in response, telling her to continue, pushing away the fear that came with my confirmed suspicion since the incident in the bloodbath. When Clove had thrown her knife into the boy's back, she had been aiming for me. A brief apologetic look appears on Glimmer's face before she continues speaking. "Well, everything was fine up until we ran into that little girl from eleven…"

"Rue," I whisper, my stomach turning. "You _killed_ Rue?"

"No," she says grimacing as if the thought sickened her. "I didn't kill her, and I wouldn't let the others kill her either." My glare slides off my face only to leave me staring at her in disbelief. She saved Rue…She _saved_ another tribute. She saved her from the others. If what she said is true, the others won't be pleased with her. In fact, if what she said is true then…

"They'll be after you." I say, voicing my thoughts aloud.

She nods, already knowing the consequence of her actions. I look down to her wound again. If treated, she might actually have a chance. But then what? If I helped her, she could just return to the others…But if what she said was true, then either way, healed or not, they'd still kill her. But this is the Hunger Games right? There can only be _one _victor. Then why help her? Why help Rue?

"Why did you help her?"

"I couldn't let it happen again." she replies softly, but it is enough. When she starts up another coughing fit, my decision becomes clear.

"Here, let me…" I say moving to kneel in front of her, long since abandoning any thought of her attacking me. Given her situation I doubt she could do anything, let alone kill me. She stares at me for a minute like she doesn't know if I'm going to finish her off or try to help. My actions become clear though, when I begin digging through my mud-covered backpack and pull out the first aid kit that was hidden beneath the sleeping bag.

I bring it out searching for anything that could be of use and spot them in the form of bandages, a small bottle of fever pills, and a small cylindrical container healing ointment. I recognize it as the stuff my mother used to apply to wounds. She would rarely use it since it was expensive and a rare find. My first encounter with it had been during my first days of hunting, I had gotten a bit too close to my target.

As I turn back to Glimmer, I reach for her shirt hesitating slightly at the sight of blood on it. "Not your thing is it?" she asks amused most likely noticing my paling face. "You don't have to do this, you know." The amusement is gone from her tone this time. She's right that this isn't my thing; I'm not a healer. That title belongs to my mother and Prim. But that doesn't mean I won't still try.

With that thought fueling me, I lift up her shirt enough to see the blood-covered wound and begin cleaning it off. I try to ignore the winces and gasps of pain that she makes every so often, instead focusing on keeping my nausea down at the sight of the now watery blood pouring down to the ground. Animals are one thing, but another human being, that's entirely different for me.

"That girl," Glimmer inhales sharply as I wipe her injury to get the dried blood off, "the one you volunteered for. She was your sister, right?"

I nod. "She's much better at this stuff, she and my mom," I mutter, wincing along with the blonde when I go over the ruptured part of the skin. From what I can tell, it isn't infected but it could become so very quickly if not treated. "He didn't get you too badly."

"He couldn't." A smug smile creeps onto her face, "One of the advantages of being around someone is that you learn their weakness and flaws."

I raise an eyebrow in question.

"He might be able to throw but he sucks with aim if he can't predict the movement of his target." she replies proudly.

"So you dodged." I confirm. The smug look turns into a more looking sheepish one and she nods. Shaking my head, I turning my attention back to her injury, but I can't stop the corner of my lips from tugging upward. Even with being injured she's still proud at pulling one over on her newfound enemy. Must be a Career thing.

After rubbing away the last bit of blood, I look the wound over carefully, trying to recall anything Prim and Mom told me about injuries. Before I met Gale, I would come home with injuries upon injuries because of running into the wrong sort of animal or accidently nicking myself with an arrow. It took me awhile to get the hang of things, and I have scars to prove it. But given how the flesh is still a healthy looking color, I guess I was right, it isn't as bad as I had thought.

It also wasn't on the stomach as much as on her side, given how it's angled it looks like she had twisted out of the way just in time. More of a flesh wound, if anything. Good, the ointment will be enough. Grabbing the small container on the ground, I twist off the lid. The smell of mint travels to my nose and I can hear Prim talking excitedly about the ointment and how she's going to find out how they made it.

"You okay?" Glimmer asks pulling me back to reality, confusion clear on her face.

I nod wordlessly and mutter, "This will sting" to her before dipping a finger into the sticky clear stuff and applying it to the skin.

"Shit! Twelve, what the hell are you doing? That _shit_ burns!"

"_This_ is something that will help you heal faster before you get an infection." I say with a bit of sympathy; my first experience with it hadn't been the best either. Back when my dad was still alive, my mom had put it on me while he distracted Prim. A seven year old should never hear that kind of language. It feels like someone had poured fire on you for the first couple of minutes but after that it cools down it feels much better. Soothing actually. "Just bear with it for a bit, it will get better."

"You know, there are other ways to set me on fire." she says a hint of seduction coloring her voice. Pausing, I glance up to see her looking directly at me, amusement laced with gratitude shining in her green eyes. Ignoring the heat creeping onto my cheeks, I grin cheekily at her.

"Good to know." I reply, causing her to laugh. After a few minutes, I'm almost done when she sighs in relief. _Guess the cool down has begun_, I think, and I start to cover it up with the bandages.

"Look Twelve, thanks, you know. For helping me." Glimmer says softly.

"My name is Katniss." I say with a smile. She returns it and starts to say something else when we both hear it. Footsteps, heavy ones at that, either someone who doesn't know how to walk quietly, someone who don't care or I glance at Glimmer, who is cursing under her breath someone who doesn't need to. My eyes fall down to the newly bandaged injury, she won't be able to move quickly enough.

"What are you waiting for?" Glimmer asks grimly, her green orbs that had been searching the area behind me are now fixed back on me. "What the _hell_ are you waiting for, Twelve? Get out of here." She thrusts a hand out pushing me and catching me off guard, and I reach back to steady myself.

"I can't just leave you like this." I hiss back, keeping my voice low.

She snorts, "And how exactly am I going to be able to outrun anyone like this? I hate to tell you this, but you wasted your time and it won't make much sense for both of us to die now would it?" Her eyes soften and she whispers, "Besides, I have someone waiting for me."

"But…" I start but she shakes her head, leaning forward and reaching behind her to pull out a quiver of arrows and a bow. My jaw drops. The bow and arrows! The ones I had attempted to get in the bloodbath, but it had became apparent that I wouldn't be able to get them unless I wanted a serious injury or death at the hands of the knife girl. Before I can say anything however, she thrusts them at me.

"Here, take this. I hope you have good aim." she says, obviously not knowing the importance of her actions. Still speechless, I just continue staring at her until we both hear a sharp snap. A shiver goes down my spine. Whoever it was is getting closer.

Glimmer growls obviously annoyed now. "Take them and go, or we'll both die for no reason!" she hisses quietly.

But I pay no mind to her this time and stare down at the bow and arrows in my hands. Even if she doesn't know what she's done, she had just practically given me a chance. I can't just leave her here to die. I won't. Getting up to my feet, I turn in the direction of the footsteps.

"What are you doing, _fire girl_?" Glimmer whispers harshly. I nock an arrow, my eyes narrowing as they sweep the area before I lift up the bow and point the arrow in the direction where I'm assuming whoever it was would emerge from. I think back to when I last spoke with my family, Peter's dad…Gale. Hunting. Think like you are hunting. As the footsteps get closer, my panic subsides as I mentally replace the heavy steps of a possible person with that of an animal.

An animal…that's all I'm hunting.


End file.
